‘And I know I shouldn’t have come around,’ Becks continued. ‘Particularly so late in the day, but I wanted to speak to you, and we had drinks after evensong tonight, and then I had to do dinner for the family. And the washing up. This is the first chance I’ve had to get away all day.’

‘Is it to do with Elliot Howard?’

‘It is.’

‘Then you’d better come in,’ Judith said, stepping to one side.

As Becks entered the house, Judith paused briefly on the threshold. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d voluntarily invited someone into her house. What surprised her was how natural it felt. How easy it had been. Life was full of surprises, she thought to herself.

As for Becks, once she was inside, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the faded grandeur of the house, from the grand piano in the oak-panelled hallway to the ancient oil paintings on the walls. But she also noticed that the air was thick with dust; piles of old newspapers and magazines covered just about every surface; crockery and empty glasses littered side tables and windowsills; and, most surprisingly of all, it appeared as though a grey bra was hanging from the shade of an old standard lamp.

Becks sneezed.

‘Sorry,’ she said, whipping out a fresh hankie from her sleeve. ‘I’ve got a bit of an allergy to dust. Actually, I’m really quite allergic to it.’

‘Then you wouldn’t last a minute in this house,’ Judith said with a complete lack of embarrassment. ‘Would you like a whisky?’

‘A whisky?’

‘Yes. Whisky.’

‘You don’t have a cup of tea, do you? Herbal preferably?’ Becks added hopefully. ‘It is quite late.’

Judith pulled a face at the thought.

‘Look, it doesn’t matter,’ Becks said. ‘I only wanted to tell you what I’d found out about Elliot Howard.’

‘Of course,’ Judith said, happy finally to be getting down to the meat of the conversation. ‘What have you got?’

‘You see, I posted on a local online forum. Asking people if Elliot could be trusted.’

‘That was rather courageous of you,’ Judith said. ‘Going public like that. As the vicar’s wife.’

‘Actually, I didn’t use my real name. I used an alias. And I didn’t check it for a few days. I forgot I’d even done it, if I’m honest. Then, today, I remembered the post and went to see what people had said.’

Becks handed her phone over and Judith tried to read the screen.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t read this without my reading glasses,’ she said, handing it back.

‘Well, there aren’t that many comments, but they’re mostly complimentary.’

‘They are?’